Harry Potter and the Slithering Snake
by Missgen
Summary: At the end of third year, Harry finds out he has to live with Snape. Will anyone be able to save him? What will Harry do? And with Voldemort slowly gaining strength, how will things turn out? A story of Harry, Snape, and everyone really.
1. Chapter 1

_Well, here is my first attempt to write for Harry. Don't know how often I'll update, but I'll get there eventually ^^ I just wrote this tonight, I felt an inspiration. If there are any mistakes... This is set after the third book, or in-between the ending of the third, a few changes- such as obvious ones like he doesn't board the train, also, perhaps a few days passed so Snape's calmed down, and Harry is about to leave as it's the last day. Basically, its the end of the year, Sirius has left for a little while now, and things are back to 'normal'. Ron I guess, doesn't get his bird, but maybe he can get it later. Voldemort's not yet in power. They did save Sirius, but the ending (or this beginning?) is different, and Harry is stuck in a new situation just before he was going to head off.  
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><p><strong>Harry Potter and the Slithering Snake<strong>

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><p>He thought he would be staying with the Dursley's. He thought it would be just like any other summer, doing chores in the garden, laying in his room and waiting till the days would end so he could go back to school. He had even thought he could have had some fun in telling his aunt and uncle his Godfather- a 'mass murderer and convicted killer'- had escaped from prison and Harry was keeping contact. He could have had some fun in taunting Dudley with the new spells he had learned, much to his aunt and uncle's displeasure, and probably resulting in more chores and a few days in his room with no food for that. But Harry wouldn't have minded. Now he would do anything to have that. Now, as odd as it was, he was actually wishing he could go back to Number Four Privet Drive; anything to escape this. Harry didn't even comprehend it the first time Snape had told him. It had passed through his ears, he had almost even nodded in agreement before it all came crashing down on him. That slick smile as he approached Harry before leaving the Great Hall. Harry was still replaying that horrible moment in his mind.<p>

_ 'Potter!' Snape yelled across the room, Harry turning around to see the black shadow slowly approaching, his cloak whipping around his ankles and his dark eyes glittering; he looked as if he had 'business' to do with Harry. Harry waved a little good-bye to Ron and Hermione before turning around to face his doom. Harry racked his brain for anything he could have done wrong, anything Snape could accuse him of; what did Snape have in store for him this time? Maybe he was still angry about Sirius... and he did hand in his end-of-the-year potions essay… right? Or maybe his essay was so horrible…was he going to give him more homework over the summer? _

_ 'This summer…Potter,' He began, the candles above giving him an odd look in his eye, a smirk creeping over his lips as he lifted his finger to his mouth, 'you will be staying with me.' _

_ And Harry had just stood there. First, the word 'summer' had made his heart skip a beat, but when no 'homework' followed, Harry had been so happy he had failed to realize just what exactly had been said. He had almost even laughed that he wasn't in trouble, wasn't getting a detention on the last day of school, wasn't getting some massive project over the holidays so that he wouldn't be able to sleep lest he finish it. He had even almost turned around and walked away thinking, 'was that it?'. However, Harry had the feeling he was horribly mistaken, that he had missed something…_

_ 'What?' He asked, his mind unable to wrap around what had just been said. _

_ 'You heard me Potter. You'll be staying with me from now on, the Headmaster has decided and all the preparations have been made. I expect to meet you back here in the morning at six. We'll be traveling by floo powder. So sorry Potter…,' He added while heading back up to the Staff table, his twisted smile still lingering on his face as he looked back at Harry's horror-struck expression, 'But you won't be going back on the train with your little friends…' _

And this was the moment that Harry couldn't forget. He was laying in his four poster bed, 'asleep', trying to come to terms with what was going to happen to him. Ron had already gone to bed, and so Harry had not had the chance to tell him. When Snape had finished, Harry was so shocked, so mortified, that he did not even have the strength to speak of it, let alone tell the news to his friends. What would they think? So he had spent the rest of the evening wandering the halls alone, trying to find of some way out of it, trying to find the meaning behind this sudden disaster. He wondered what he had done to deserve such torture. Why him? Why, for the whole summer- perhaps the rest of his summers- was he to live in the same house as Snape, who liked nothing more than to torment Harry with his snide words and comments? What was Dumbledore thinking? And why was he changing Harry's living arrangements now anyway? Harry had always stayed with his aunt and uncle, as much as Harry had always complained… now he was really wanting to complain; this was ten times worse than anything the Dursley's could do, Snape would make sure of that. Harry wondered; what would they do without him this summer? Probably throw a party. That was the only thought that half made him smile; the look on his uncles face when he realized he had finally gotten rid of him. And perhaps his uncle would wonder of the look on Harry's face when he would stumble upon the 'traps' Harry had set around his room. He would probably shriek in fear, never again attempting to clear out his nephews bedroom; with Harry gone, he was likely to try. That was the only thing that Harry wished to see in this terrible turn of events…

Harry, now having mulled over the situation so much that his brain hurt, wondered if he should wake Ron. Ron and Hermione were probably the only ones he would tell. It was his new secret that he really didn't want others, even Neville or Dean, to know about. And certainly, he didn't want the whole school to know he was to be living with Snape either. Especially Malfoy. He would be laughed at, pitted to endless depths if anyone ever knew. What-what could he do to get out of this? He felt at the end of his game, and he had just begun to enjoy himself now that Sirius was safe and there was nothing to worry about.

Perhaps he could write a letter. Harry felt sick- it was the middle of the night, how could anyone possibly help him now? No one would get the letter before he was taken away. And to who, even if he was to write? He almost considered, in a funny imagination, him running out of the castle, out into the grounds and into the forbidden forest where he would hide until school started again. Hagrid could feed him, he would become a forest boy living freely in the wild; no one would ever know. It was funny how he considered all that rather than just live with Snape… but it was useless…. Maybe he could send a message to Dumbledore, maybe… he could catch him in the morning, and tell him that he _really_ wasn't bothered-_at all!_-to stay with the Dursley's. He would even argue, as much pain as it would be for him to say, that he _loved_ to stay there each summer. Anything to stop this progression of events. Harry had wanted to stay with Sirius, but now he was- that was it! Harry nearly leaped out of bed at the thought; he could write a letter to Sirius! Sirius wouldn't let Harry stay with Snape, he would do anything to help. Perhaps Harry could ask him to influence Dumbledore to change his mind. Sirius was sure to help him; he would not want his Godson living with Snape of all people. Perhaps…

Harry had a plan. It was the only chance he had to get out of this. First, he would write his letter to Sirius and have it ready to send off in the morning. Then, he would wake up early and attempt to see Dumbledore before it was too late. He would beg even if he had to. However, if things still didn't go his way, and he was _still _going to have to live with Snape, he would send off his letter to Sirius before six. He didn't want to send a letter if he didn't have to, especially not so soon after Sirius escaped. But Harry was desperate, and he needed his some sort of hope; a last chance for someone to save him, _anything_ to save him... even if he _would_ have to spend a few days with Snape because of it. Harry crept out of bed and headed down to the common room, a pen and some parchment in hand…

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><p>Harry thought it best to tell Ron before he left that morning with his plan. It was nearing five, and Harry was sure he hadn't slept at all; the prospect of meeting with Snape so soon, time did not help him in slowing things down. Harry slightly wished he still had Hermione's time-turner; then he could go back and make sure his old self did not talk with Snape. Couldn't stop him from leaving on the train if he didn't know about it! Of course, he would be meddling with the fabric of time, and possibly causing the destruction of the very universe, but if he didn't have to live with Snape… it was a hard decision.<p>

Harry pushed Ron down on the couch by the fire, struggling to put his situation into words. Ron still looked out of it, rubbing his eyes, mumbling to himself about what was so important that Harry needed to talk at this hour. Harry tried to explain.

'I have to- I have to-' Harry still couldn't voice it; it was hard to admit this was happening to him.

'You have to what, Harry? What are you talking about?' Ron yawned tiredly while stretching his arms. 'Can't we talk about it on the train?'

'I won't be on the train… if things continue.' Harry whispered quietly, much to the shock of Ron. He looked at Harry seriously, then smiled.

'Haha… Harry, you're more tired than I am. _Of course_ you'll be on the train! How else will you get back? Now, lets go back to bed for a bi-'

'I have to live with Snape!' Harry shouted, and all of Ron's tiredness swept away with the drop of his jaw. It hung there, Ron looking stupidly at Harry, also unable to put Harry's situation into words.

'You-you, what?'

'Yes, exactly.' Ron had described it perfectly. 'Snape told me as I was leaving dinner, you remember…. He said Dumbledore had planned for it, and that everything was prepared! If someone doesn't help me before six, I'll be trapped with Snape for the whole summer. And quite possibly-' Ron looked at him, wondering what could be worse, and Harry continued depressively, '-quite possibly, all summers after this.'

Ron gasped loudly, his eyes wide with horror at the thought of _living_ with Snape. His mouth was still hanging open, and he was looking…thinking...

'It's bad enough we have classes with him… let alone spending _everyday_ with him!' Harry wished he hadn't put it like that, in this perspective. Harry was trying not to think about it, but now Ron's words filled him with fear. _Every_._ Day_.

'Harry! Don't worry!' Ron said standing up, a determined look on his face, 'I'll think of a way- You can live with me! I'll ask mum, of course she'd say yes! Snape can't take you with him if you have somewhere to go, right? And Dumbledore has to agree! Its perfect!'

But still… Harry wasn't so sure…

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><p>'No.'<p>

Dumbledore had turned Harry down before he had even said anything. Ron had accompanied Harry to his office- thankfully, as Harry was nervous- but still it was no good. Harry could only stare at the Headmaster in disbelief, Ron the same. For a moment, Dumbledore merely sat with his arms on his desk while Harry and Ron stood, in shock, in confusion, and in an instant they began to protest.

'But-but- Professor!' Harry stammered, feeling like a child with no proper reason.

'How can you let him-' Ron said furiously.

'Snape- he's-!'

'_Professor_ Snape, Harry…'

'That's not the point!'

'Harry can live with me, how about that?' Ron yelled with triumph, sure that he had defeated the entire argument.

'Oh I thought, Mr. Weasley, that you would come up with that solution. However, Harry must live with Professor Snape. Anything else won't do…'

'But-but…' Ron stumbled, all his confidence gone as his entire plan was shattered, 'Harry, he can...why Snap-sorry-Professor Snape? Harry, he can live with us… can't he?'

'I'm afraid, Mr. Weasley, that that can't be done, as much as I would hope. Harry must live with Professor Snape, there is no other way. Now… I believe-'

'Professor… please.' Harry begged, with everything he had on the line, 'I can't live with him, you know how he is…why do I have to live with him anyway? Why change now?' Harry felt sad, betrayed. He felt like the trust he had in Dumbledore was gone. There was no reason he could not live with Ron; hell, he'd even live with the Dursley's if he had to. Why was he making Harry live with Snape all of a sudden? To him, it didn't made sense.

Dumbledore looked tired, and he seemed aged for a moment instead of his usual happy self. He sighed,

'Harry, if I could tell you, I would. But alas, it is not the right time. Professor Snape will do you no harm,' Ron snorted, ' And I mean that, Mr. Weasley. I have absolute trust in Severus, and he would not harm a hair on Harry's head. Harry has nothing to worry about, and he may even, dare I say it, _enjoy_ his time there? Harry- do not worry, Professor Snape will take care of you; all the living arrangements have been made, your aunt and uncle have been informed. Now- I do believe it is nearing six o'clock, and you have yet to send your letter?'

Ron looked around at Harry- he had forgot to mention his back-up plan. How did Dumbledore know?

'How?' Harry asked, stunned that he could be found out so easily.

'Harry- did you really believe I would not guess you would attempt to ask Sirius for help? But never mind. Send your letter Harry, and we will see…'

Harry didn't know what that meant, but maybe he still had a chance? Maybe Sirius could persuade Dumbledore…. If Sirius could help him…

Harry and Ron ran out and rushed over to the Owlery.

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><p>'I can't believe him! Making you live with Snape! Harry- he's lost his marbles, that one. And here I thought he was just a kind old man… he's a crazy old man!' Ron shouted as they entered the tower, 'Snape not hurting you! Ha! The first chance he gets-oh sorry.'<p>

'Yeah, Ron, I get it.'

Harry tied his letter to a barn owl and brought her over to the window. He didn't want to use Hedwig as she attracted too much attention; Hedwig seemed offended and flew upwards. The sun was slowly rising, and the trees of the forbidden forest swaying softly in the morning air. A few birds could be seen, and the cool wind brushed his skin. Harry didn't want the morning to come.

'Brilliant, though, you thinking of Sirius.' Ron cut into the silence, taking Harry from his thoughts, 'If anyone can help you, Sirius will. He won't stand for it, heck, he'd even probably come back just to help you.'

'I told him not to.' Harry said simply. 'Its too dangerous for him to come back, people are still looking, so he wouldn't anyway. I only told him to tell Dumbledore, or convince him in someway. That's all the hope that's left…'

Ron looked depressed. Harry let go of the owl and pushed her into the air. She took off gracefully, the letter tied to her foot, Harry hoping desperately she would make it. He watched as she flew further into the distance, slowly becoming a speck between the vast world and the tower in which he stood in, leaning on the edge of the window and watching his only possible means of escape to the hell that awaited him fly ever further…

'How'll we tell Hermione?' Harry asked, his heart sinking as the time grew closer. Without Sirius, without Ron, Harry would _have_ to go with Snape, at least, for now...

'I dunno. She'll probably be worried sick though.'

'Don't tell anyone else, ok? I don't need the whole school finding out.'

'Well duh. Just think, if everyone knew- well actually, I'm not sure how they'd react. What do you think? Would they laugh, or just be plain grateful it wasn't them?'

'…Ron, how many times do I have to tell you… not to…' Ron seemed to have a habit of making everything sound worse.

'Sorry... Harry… but don't worry. Even if you do go now, I won't give up trying to save you. Hermione too; we'll figure a way around Dumbledore. You won't just have Sirius at your back, we'll all try and get you out as soon as possible.'

Harry felt a little grateful to have Ron with him; Ron was his friend, Harry knew he would try as hard as he could. Maybe things would work out after all, and with Hermione's brains…. If he only had to spend a few days, maybe he could somehow survive long enough to be rescued.

'Guess we better go then…' Harry turned from the window and walked out, Ron following behind sadly. Harry gave Hedwig a look before he left, telling her he was leaving; however, knowing her, she'd find him wherever he went. She was mad, for not delivering the letter, which meant that Harry really _was_ going alone in his trip to Snape's. He really, for the first time, felt utterly defeated. Even his recent adventure was no match for his depression now. And with the little courage he had left, he headed back with Ron to grab his things.

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><p>Harry, as it seemed, was leaving earlier than all the other students. Perhaps just as Harry didn't want others to know he was living with Snape, Snape also didn't want others knowing Harry was to be living with him as well. The train back to Kings Cross usually left at nine, yet Harry was leaving the school at six. Or at least, he was to <em>meet up<em> with Snape at six. Harry sort of wished Ron would have come down with him, but Harry knew Ron needed to pack his things; he had left it all till now. Besides, Snape probably wouldn't like Ron hanging around, and Harry would probably land himself in more trouble- Ron was planning on giving him the 'eye', as he had described it, so to not hurt Harry. Ron had told him he'd make an excuse for Harry's early departure, and so Harry had said a depressing good-bye, which hopefully wouldn't be his last, and he headed out through the portrait and down the halls towards the meeting place.

Harry dragged his trunk, making quite a lot of noise too seeing as he was the only one doing so. Down one hallway he had to wait five-minutes before he could sneak past peeves; thank-god he had left too, for if he followed Harry and found out…

He pulled his trunk down the stairs and finally through the doors of the Great Hall. Panting slightly, he looked up to see Dumbledore and Snape waiting for him. They were standing by one of the fires, Dumbledore looking pleased Harry that had made it, and Snape giving him a glare as he came closer.

'Now Harry, I assume you know you are traveling by floo powder, correct?' Dumbledore asked.

'Yes sir.' Harry didn't really want to look up, so he kept his face hidden by his hair, his head hung in shame. He hoped Sirius would get his letter… soon.

'Well, then, I guess you two should be heading off now. Severus, I do hope you'll keep your word, and also to not forget your duties.'

Harry had to look up at this. Didn't Dumbledore say he _completely_ trusted Snape? Why was he talking about keeping his word? His duties? Didn't Dumbledore tell him not to worry?

'Professor!' Harry yelled, Dumbledore turning his twinkling eyes to him with a smile.

'Harry, like I said, do not worry. Now, off you go…'

Snape grabbed Harry's arm before he could protest. Harry looked painfully at Dumbledore, not understanding, but he only smiled and waved. Harry felt an immediate panic, that Dumbledore really didn't know what he was doing after all; he had said not to worry, but now all Harry could do _was_ worry. How could he trust Snape? How could he _live_ with Snape? Ron was right, Snape really was going to hurt Harry at the first moment he could. How could Snape do anything otherwise? Before Harry had time to think, Snape threw the ashes into the fire and it flamed green. He pulled Harry in, shouted a street name which was unfamiliar, and Harry felt a twist, a pull in his stomach as he was swept through the many fireplaces, the emerald green flashing through his eyes, and the knowledge that he was headed for a different sort of summer vacation this time around.


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, I wrote this a while ago, but only fixed it up now. I think I only am writing this story for my own amusement... That one comment about it being funny, it is funny and I laughed while writing it too lol I always appreciate all comments, so thanks, (though that one, I don't know if I've been insulted?) __This chapter, not a lot happens yet. This is light-hearted for now, but I could easily turn it dark later, much later on. I don't know how often I'll update, maybe I'll do another chapter soonish... everything in this happens as how I think it 'would'. I tried to want to update it a the same time as my other story, I may do that, I may not... Also, Snape's house may be a 'bit' different (I can't remember how it is exactly), but hopefully not a whole bunch. I guess that is all..._

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

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><p>When Harry had first landed, tripping over his feet and falling to the ground, he was sure he had fallen into some dark and musty hole. His glasses were covered in ash, yet even when he cleaned them, the image did not improve. Did someone actually <em>live<em> here? Then, his mind registered who he was with, what had happened before, and it suddenly all made sense; of course Snape would live in such a creepy home, how could he not? If there was anything in the world that made sense, it was that Snape did not live in some bright, sunlit house full of roses and daisies; like a snake that hid in its hole, Snape's house was pretty much a pitch-black den; little to no light, and a suffocating, cool air which made it hard for lungs to work. As Harry took in the living room from the ground, he could see a red couch and arm chair, a small coffee table, and a tiny lamp that was broken which sat beside. The whole place seemed full of dust, clouds of it hovering around, and he coughed as he breathed in the air.

'Get up, Potter…' Was Snape's way of a welcome. Harry scowled at him as he did so; he was not going to let Snape have his fun. Harry knew how Snape would love to humiliate him during his time here, but Harry wasn't going to give him any satisfaction. And after all, he wasn't planning on staying too long anyways; he didn't know how he would escape, but he wasn't going to give up, no matter what Dumbledore had said. He had Ron and Hermione, Sirius too, who would be trying to rescue him. All he needed to do was survive a few days, try not to make Snape too mad (Harry would have trouble with this one), and then head out before Snape could do anything. Perhaps if the others could convince Dumbledore, Harry would get to leave freely without having to break out of the house and run for his life. Really, he was thinking of _any_ means possible… but first he would wait till his letter from Sirius arrived, and possibly some news from Ron and Hermione.

He took in the room slowly, adjusting to the idea of being in Snape's home (who knew Snape actually lived anywhere?). The living room was small, and no form of entertainment could be seen except the couch- Harry hoped he wouldn't have to actually _talk_ with Snape, that would be the true horror; he could imagine how well that conversation would go. There was a set of stairs close by, a kitchen covered by a set of gloomy curtains, and a few bookshelves to his right. That was it. It was obvious by the spider webs and eerie darkness that lurked all around that no one had lived here in quite a while.

'I see you are amused by my home, Potter…?' Snape spoke suddenly, his lips curling upwards in a sneer, 'No doubt the _famous_ Harry Potter is not used to living in such conditions; I am sorry it is not quite like the _luxury_ you are accustomed to...'

Right off the bat, Snape was enraging Harry so much that he had to bite his lip to stop himself from shouting. When did he say he would not start fights with Snape? When did he say he would not get mad? When Harry did not answer, only trembling in rage, did Snape continued curtly,

'Now… I assume you have some form of a brain, Potter…or maybe that's why your so inept in my potions class?' He smirked again, apparently insistent to make the most out of Harry's ordeal.

'You know as well as I do that neither of us want to be here.' Finally something Harry could agree with, 'Nevertheless, your to be staying as the Headmaster has decided… much to my _disapproval_; if it were up to me, you would still be living with your muggle relatives- the only good thing, it seems, that could ever sort out that enormous head of yours, Potter... much to your father's alikeness.'

Harry wasn't sure he could take any more… now his lip was practically bleeding and his hand was curled in a fist; it was so hard not to say anything…and Snape seemed to love his control over Harry all the more. He went on,

'There are a few rules to be established and I expect you to follow them…' He smiled, 'Even as much as I know how the Potter's are _above_ such petty things as rules…' Harry's eyes narrowed; Snape just wouldn't miss a chance, would he?

'The first rule, is that you are not allowed to leave this house. Under no circumstance will you be allowed out, and I have my own ways, Potter…to know if you abide to this.'

In an instant, all of Harry's anger at Snape flew out the window and was replaced with a sick feeling in his stomach as if he had dropped. Now he wasn't even allowed fresh _air_? He couldn't even escape Snape's presence for a little while? What was this, a prison? And Dumbledore had said not to worry…. Now Harry was even more determined to get the hell out.

'You mean I can't even-!' Harry tried to protest, but was cut off as Snape spoke even louder,

'The second rule is that you are not to go snooping around! I know how you are Potter, thinking your some sort of mystery solver… but if I find out you've been looking where your nose doesn't-'

'Look who's talking about noses'. Harry said before he could stop himself; apparently his anger hadn't died down just yet. However, now he was sorely regretting it by the look on Snape's face, twitching in contorted rage. Why wouldn't his mouth just shut-up?

Snape walked over to him and looked down, his pure black-eyes loathing. Harry had to take a step back, sure he could feel fire coming off his breath.

'The third rule… is that you are to address me with respect. It seems we are already having trouble with this?'

'How can I treat you with respect when you practically-!'

'Believe me, Potter, if you disobey any of these rules…' He whispered dangerously, his voice full of threat, 'lets just say that Dumbledore may or may not be getting back his 'boy-who-lived' in one piece.'

Harry never believed he could hate Snape more than he hated him now. First he was a prisoner trapped in the house, next he _has_ to take Snape's comments lying down while pretending to be 'respectful'? Harry really couldn't wait until he could leave, and then he would laugh at the look on Snape's face as he walked out the door and was free… He would only have to spend a few days… Harry seemed to hold this prospect of getting out as his only means of sanity. He wasn't even sure if it would be a few days till the others got back to him, but he had to _hope_… and Harry needed all the hope he could get. He would have to work on his own too to ensure his immediate escape.

'Your room is upstairs and to the right; I expect I don't need to escort you, do I?' And with that, Snape turned on his heel and walked off, heading to the kitchen with his billowing robes and leaving Harry alone to bubble in his anger.

Harry grabbed his truck roughly and dragged it to the stairs, not caring about the noise he was making against the wooden floor, not caring that he nearly knocked over the already broken lamp in his hurry. He definitely didn't want to stay with Snape; not if he had to put up with _this_ every day. Once he got to the landing (after a rage worthy struggle up the stairs), he threw open the door and slammed it shut. From there, he shoved his trunk to the side and started to pace all around the room. He took no notice of the bed or the dresser as the only furniture in the room, didn't even register that he had only a tiny slit of a window in which to see the outside. All he cared about was not losing his mind as he was trapped with Snape. Snape hated Harry with everything he had, so his threat to Harry wasn't to be taken lightly. Snape's comments had made Harry so mad that he couldn't think straight, and so, still fuming, he crumbled onto the dusty bed (much to his surprise), inhaled a fistful of particles and stuck his head in the pillow. He _really _hoped Ron and Hermione would write soon…

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><p>The rumble, the slow rhythmic beat of the train was the only sound in Ron and Hermione's compartment. When she had found out Harry was gone, Hermione had been struck with fear, and so (with much suspicion of everyone else on the train) Ron had taken her alone to a compartment in the back so they could hold a private conversation.<p>

'I just can't believe it…. What on _earth_ is Dumbledore thinking? Sending Harry off with Snape...it doesn't make any logical…'

'Yeah Hermione, that's what Harry said.' Ron looked out the window, 'I guess he's off by now… wonder what sort of torture Snape's got planned for him…what can we do to help him Hermione! You got brains- think!'

'Well, if Dumbledore said it was alright…' Hermione looked down guiltily.

Ron looked at her in disbelief, unable to believe his ears. 'Hermione, who are you kidding?' he yelled at her in fury, 'You know well enough how Snape treats him! That evil, twisted, rotten bat has probably poisoned him-'

'But Ron! Think for a minute! ' Hermione regained herself, 'Why would Dumbledore send Harry with Snape for no reason at all? Dumbledore knows what he's doing; after all, he's the greatest wizard of our time- if he wouldn't let Harry stay with you, Ron, then there must be an important reason why he has to stay with Snape. That's the only explanation!'

'Hermione, you can go on and on all you want about how Dumbledore has his reasons, but you _know_ how much Snape hates Harry! He'll die before he ever gets back to school, and you, of all people should see that!'

'But…'

'Look Hermione, we have to save him, Harry's counting on us! You should've seen him, the look on his face when he told me! Besides… would _you_ want to be stuck with Snape all summer?' Hermione blushed, and Ron continued with a smirk, 'Thought so. Nobody in all of hell would want to be stuck with Snape, much less every day, in the same house… breathing the same air.' He shivered at the thought.

'But-but what can we do to help him…? It's near impossible if Dumbledore himself won't change his mind.'

'Harry sent a letter to Sirius before he went… maybe we can write one too?'

'Well… it's a start…' She looked troubled, in thought, 'Sirius would want to help- but what can he do, thousands of miles away and on the run? We just saved him, he wouldn't come back so soon… it's too risky.'

'Harry said that too.'

They remained quiet for a while, the chattering of students all around could be heard, and the flashing of trees passing by the window as they headed into the mountains. Crookshanks leapt from the trunks up above and onto Hermione's lap; she petted him fondly.

'So what did you say to the other's about Harry leaving?' Hermione asked Ron with interest, wondering what he could possibly have said as an excuse. And much to her suspicions, Ron turned an instant shade of red.

'I couldn't think on the spot, alright? Neville immediately asked after Harry left… I didn't have time! And the only thing- the only thing I could come up with… Harry's going to kill me…'

'What? What did you say?' Hermione asked breathlessly, looking a little worried now too.

'I said… I don't know if he even believed me, but I said…!' Ron gulped. 'I said that Harry _flew_ back! On his broom!' He covered his face in shame, 'It was so stupid, I know! But I didn't know what else to say!'

'Harry _flew_ back?' Hermione looked at him blankly before she did the most expected thing and burst out laughing. 'Oh god Ron! How could Harry have _flown _back? It doesn't make any sense! Did you say his reasons for doing such a ridiculous thing? Why in the world would Harry fly back?' Her smile would not cease from her mouth, even as she thought of the consequences of saying such an excuse.

'I said that…' If Ron could have turned any redder, he did. But just then, the door slid open and revealed none other than Draco Malfoy, much to their surprise. He was grinning broadly and looking pleased about something.

'Well well… I see the rumours are true then. Potter's not on the train- what happened? Did he get kicked out or something? Or maybe the muggles didn't want him anymore… ' He laughed, and Crabbe and Goyle behind joined in.

'What do you want, Malfoy? Go away if you have nothing decent to say.' Hermione folded her arms and looked away, and Malfoy let the smile wipe from his face; no more laughter was coming from his mouth. He quickly turned things to business.

'I guess it was you then, Weasley?' He addressed Ron, who looked both angry and embarrassed at the same time knowing what was to come, 'You were the one who told that _ridiculous_ story? When I first heard I thought it was a joke!' Hermione looked alarmed, 'Honestly… fighting off trolls with his bare hands, being so injured he couldn't make it to the train… You weren't serious, were you? Did you really expect anyone to believe that?' And his laughter at Ron came back ten-fold, and Hermione could only look unbelievably at Ron, unable to think of how he could have come up with that one.

Ron shook in humiliation, and his lips unable to produce a comeback. Usually he would have no problem in telling Malfoy off, but now he was hesitating, unsure of himself, stalling before the growing, mounting pressure to say something, _anything_, to defend himself. The fact was was that he couldn't, because he himself knew how stupid it sounded too.

'Isn't it you who is being stupid, Malfoy?' Hermione spoke up at that moment; she could see how Ron was struggling for an answer, and at the same time she hated for Malfoy to be in a laughing fit. Ron was thankful for being saved. '_Of course_ it was a_ joke_, I would have thought that was obvious in itself. Of course he wasn't being serious, Malfoy, however, if you thought that was the case…'

Malfoy sneered an unpleasant smile, 'What's it to you, mud blood? I can see what's going on here; your trying to save little Weasley here some face… never mind, though.' He turned around to leave, 'I'll find out where Potter's really gone… that is,' He looked to Ron, 'if the _trolls_ don't get me before I can make it…' And then he burst out laughing, the way he always did when he had the last say, and with Crabbe and Goyle following like giggling stumps, he slammed the compartment door shut and left. Outside and even a few moments after, they could still hear his laughter crying out down the halls, the commotion stirring the train as other students got out to see what the fuss was about. Hermione looked to Ron, who was still looking down and glum.

'Really Ron?' She sighed, looking a little exhausted herself, 'You could have just said he was sick…'

Ron let a small smile cross his mouth, his expression lighting up at such a simple, obvious answer,

'Oh yeah…' Why hadn't he thought of that before…

* * *

><p>Harry had not moved since his arrival. The silence in the house was killing him, his head still pushed in the pillow, his attempts to drown out reality not working as much as he had hoped. It was evening by now, and he hadn't eaten anything all day. Harry knew he was only being selfish and stubborn, but he didn't really care. He hated Dumbledore for sending him here, he hated Snape for making fun of him and his comments. Snape was probably still mad about Sirius's recent escape, and though he had no proof, he still suspected Harry for it; this wouldn't make things any better between them. Add to that, Snape just had a natural dislike for Harry that even Harry did not understand. But that did not matter now. Nothing mattered now.<p>

Thoughts occurred to Harry about just leaving right now, opening the door and running away before things got too difficult and he was _really_ stuck. It was still, after all, the first day. No one would suspect anything on the first day….He wondered slightly where he would go in such a situation; the streets? The leaky cauldron? He also wondered what Snape would do if he actually _did_ run away. Snape had said he wasn't allowed to leave, but what would he do if Harry did? Would he hunt him down, fire spells even and drag him back if he had to? Harry wouldn't put it past him.

His thoughts turned to Hedwig. He wished she would make it back soon. She was always a comfort whenever he had to stay at horrible places. At the Dursley's she was Harry's only friend and connection to the outside world. The way she would nip at his hands or bring in 'presents' for him to 'eat' (he always gave them back), he enjoyed these moments with her. At school, everyone always seemed to ignore their owls, viewing them only as messengers… but to Harry, Hedwig was special; she was much more than an owl, and she was an important part of his life. But he probably wouldn't see her for a while though- she was mad at Harry for not giving her the letter. But still, he hoped she would get over it soon…he wanted to see her soon…soon as in, today... today as in, right now...but what were the chances of that?

Harry's' heart skipped a beat when he heard the door open and footsteps walk in. He felt sick to his stomach, and for more reason than one. The first was that he hated for Snape to see him in such a state, this upset. He hadn't come down all day, had not moved at all, staying stubbornly in his room and refusing to do anything; he hated for Snape to see this side of him. He hated to show weakness, especially in a time such as this. The second reason for his thumping, nerve racking feelings was the prospect of being yelled at, Snape's reasons for coming here which was likely to come any moment now. Snape was probably furious with him for staying upstairs all day. He was probably coming to tell him how much of a brat he was being, in which Harry couldn't really deny. Harry lay still, trying to pretend he was sleeping.

'I've only come to tell you, Potter,' Snape began in a dangerous, quiet tone at the door, 'That if you insist on being a _child_, by all means, you'll have no troubles there…' Harry silently cursed before he started again, 'However, even if that is the case, there are some things in which you should be aware of...'

He seemed to have decided that Harry wasn't actually sleeping, though Harry still did not move and continued his feigning. He heard him draw closer. He wished Snape would just leave him alone; he didn't want to hear what else he had to say. What was it, more rules?

'You seem to hold the belief that you will just be idling away your time here…' Harry had a bad feeling, 'But I don't want you to get the wrong idea… there is _lots_ for you to do here, Potter…you won't just be… _sleeping_,' Harry went rigid, his pulse seeming to stop. Snape went on in a dull manner,

'I have a list of chores and other such things for you to work on… seeing as how you are not to leave this house, we certainly don't want you to be _bored_, do we?' He let out a small, twisted laugh, and Harry was breathing hard into the pillow.

He wanted to get at Harry, and it was working. Harry was used to doing chores around the Dursley's, but this was different. He didn't want to work for _Snape_, of all people, round the clock- it would be like some horrible, nightmare of a detention, and he could only imagine Snape picking out the worst things for him to 'work on'. At the Dursley's, even if he had chores, he could still be alone in his room if he wanted to. In fact, the Dursley's liked it best if Harry was alone in his room. Now, however… with Snape, Harry could only foresee he would not get any chance at being alone; no free time at all, slaving away in front of Snape all day and night- Snape wouldn't care, he was sure of that. Snape was probably planning for Harry to bleed by his hands and knees everyday in chores. He would want to torture Harry with punishment, surely this would be his way. How could Harry possibly escape like this now? Under the nose of Severus Snape twenty-four-seven? No- no, he had to keep positive! He wouldn't let Snape deter his beliefs, his only hopes of survival... he wasn't going to stay here; he wasn't going to follow Snape's rules.

'If you understand…' He droned on at a length, heading back to the door, 'then I expect to see you in the morning at sunrise. You have refused to come down for dinner today, if you continue to starve yourself…well, we might just find a way around that… or maybe' And he shut the door, a crisp farewell before adding humourously, 'You could do us all the favour?' and with that, he left Harry alone. And again, it seemed that whenever Snape finished his 'conversations' with Harry, Harry was always left in a state of fury. He wasn't going to last long if things continued this way. Every time he was on the verge on shouting back, his sanity and peace of mind at their ends game. He only wanted to be by himself in this miserable, depressing time, yet now Snape was forcing him to do otherwise. It was only the first day… only the first day… when would his letters arrive, again?

Harry still did not move from his position, and for the rest of the night he stayed shut up in his room. He was probably going to regret not eating…

Before Harry knew it, his tiredness caught up to him; and with that, the night came, and he fell into some _very_ unpleasant dreams of what morning was going to bring.


	3. Chapter 3

_Well, here is__ my most latest creation to this story. I wanted to get it started, a bit, so I wrote most of this yesterday (I can work faster if I want, it seems lol). I had wanted more things in this chapter, but I think I'll just add it next time. __I've just (well, not really) realized that in this story, every single one of the characters conversations I could probably attribute to some part of the books lol! Sometimes I can't be sure 'where exactly', but I know its in there somewhere. I think I am doing it unconsciously (or consciously?) and its hard to stop lolz But, its funny nonetheless, I think anyway. Don't know when I'll update again, later sometime... I think I am addicted to writing these things lol  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

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><p>Harry awoke a little earlier than the 'sunrise' that Snape had instructed to. The tiny slit of a window in his room showed a darkened sky, the sun no where to be seen; he still, it seemed, had time. Harry had wanted to get up early to try and come up with something, some way to get his letters while under Snape's new rule. He realized, a little late by now, that his window was not big enough for any owl, or indeed, <em>anything<em>, to get into. His letters wouldn't be able to come in privacy like he had assumed, and they would have to make it by some other means… some other window, as risky as that was. If Snape was going to make him work from now on, he probably wouldn't have much time on his own. Which was why he needed to act now, if he was going to at all.

Harry, still a little hesitant (it was never easy knowledge to know that at any second Snape could come breathing down his neck) opened the door very quietly and crept out into the hall. He would scout out the house, look for any possible, free window in which he could possibly grab his letters without being seen. Harry hadn't noticed before in his anger, but there were two other doors opposite his. More than likely, one belonged to Snape. Harry tried to envision him sleeping; he couldn't. He had always thought him like a vampire, with his eyes open, sitting upright at some sort of desk, waiting in the dark for any flicker of movement, any sign that students (as in Harry) were out of their beds. His heart beat a little as he padded down the stairs, one particular loud creek sending fear all through his body. He was constantly checking behind him, sure that at any moment the great bat would descend.

On the third last step, Harry stopped, and for a moment he was sure that somehow Snape's house had a trick step too, an entrapment around his foot which would cause him to sink; and his heart as well, seemed to sink. He didn't need to keep checking behind him, for Snape, the vampire bat, lay ahead, by the fireplace, sitting with an expression of knowing amusement at Harry's 'early' arrival. It looked as if he had guessed.

'And what do we have here…?' Harry wished he could go back up the stairs. Go back and forget this foolhardy attempt, turn around the events that only a moment ago were possible, because now he was stuck, now he couldn't-

'I had thought…' Snape spoke from the shadows, his dark form menacing and Harry's leg still in the movement of going down. 'Potter, you thought you could test me? Didn't believe I would be… _up_?' And Harry could only stammer out some form of an answer; (Yes? No? Which was the right one?)

'Yes-I mean no! I mean-_sir_!' Harry nearly forgot the third rule. Now wasn't the time to break any more.

Snape got up from the chair in one movement, his black hair curtaining his face as he strode over in but a few steps.

'Well, now that we are all _here_…' And he motioned for Harry to go into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>The Burrow wasn't the most imaginative, nor the most inventive of places to form plans in; nor was it the dangerous sort of hide out Ron had been thinking of, devising plans deep-underground, involving risk of death (or expulsion, as Hermione brought him back to reality)- the kitchen table, Ron's messy bedroom, would have to suffice. But for the moment anyhow, neither Ron or Hermione had any sort of plans, their brains and strategies dry, so that thought didn't get them far. They were stuck, at a loss, seemingly completely helpless to save Harry from the torment of living with Snape. Ron had thought it would be easy, Hermione, however, had enough sense to see otherwise. Harry had told them not to say a word about where he was at, and so, true to their promise, they had not told even the rest of Weasley family- whom were already suspicious themselves- about Harry's predicament. Ron and Hermione's secluded, whispering natures didn't help matters, and Mrs. Weasley, being no fool either, began to suspect immediately; to their tiring ears, to their frustrated (Hermione's hair took the toll) minds, even only a day after they had arrived, Mrs. Weasley would not stop her constant questioning and prying.<p>

'So where was Harry again, dears?' Mrs. Weasley began, _again_, the morning after Hermione's arrival in yet another attempt to catch them off-guard. Ron grumbled into his plate. Hermione's stress levels were at their peak. They had only been here _one day_, and yet both had been questioned so many times, they no longer cared to answer. Mrs. Weasley never believed their answers anyway.

'You know,' She went on in a caring, motherly way (though Ron and Hermione knew differently), 'If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'm only here to help.' She had, it seemed, noticed their reluctance to speak and come straight out; she was moving on to the next tactic of '_I only want to help'. _

Ron grunted in response; he knew how to deal with this one. Hermione wanted to escape from the breakfast table, though Mrs. Weasley had _insisted_ she eat _something_.

'More pancakes, dear?' She piled about ten onto her plate.

'No-no thank-you, Mrs. Weasley; _really,_ I'm too full! I can't ea-!'

Ron was shaking his head vehemently behind his mother's back, desperately trying to get his message of warning out: never deny her food! _Never! _

'I mean…' Hermione tried to correct herself, a hesitant smile to complement Mrs. Weasley's stiffness. 'I mean…_thankyouverymuch._' She finished in a rather small voice, Ron huffing out in relief as Mrs. Weasley seemed to take the comment in a swift happiness.

'There's more on the pan if you need any.' She smiled and headed back to the stove, now cooking the sausages.

'We have to get out of here!' Hermione whispered urgently to Ron across the table, and not just because they still needed to write their letters for Harry, but also because they didn't want to gain 20-pounds before breakfast was over. They were the only ones eating, and not without their suspicions that Mrs. Weasley had forced the rest of the family out to interrogate them alone; that was too many pancakes to deal with.

'I know, but she won't let us leave until she finds out!' Ron whispered back, 'Now we've got more to deal with, not just saving Harr-!'

'What was that?' Mrs. Weasley cupped her hand over her ear; even over the sizzling slate in front of her, she was, apparently, still trying to listen-in on any sort of conversation they might have. It was dangerous to speak out loud!

'Nothing!' Both of them answered quickly, and the scene once more settled back into silence. Ron mouthed something, and Hermione was working out what he was trying to say.

'I-V-E-G-O-'

Hermione laughed a little, because Ron's mouth was doing big, wide, circular movements, and for all she knew he was trying to impersonate a fish. She understood all the same. _He's got a plan._ Though what sort of plan? Hermione would have to see…

_Yawn!_ Ron yawned and stretched, in a huge exaggeration of sleep that even Mrs. Weasley looked over, and even if Hermione didn't know of Ron's 'plan', even she could tell it was fake,

'Thanks for the meal mum, but I'm off to bed for some extra sleep… seeing as how _no one would let me yesterday_!' And he winked to Hermione, as if that was the key point, as if his display was the most masterful job anyone had ever seen. Hermione looked worried; if anything this would make things even worse!

Ron got up to leave, but Mrs. Weasley stormed over and pushed him back down.

'Oh no you don't! You're not leaving till you- till you!' Mrs. Weasley, it seemed, didn't like to admit her own underhanded methods. Hermione could see Ron's plan as he looked over and winked again; if Mrs. Weasley wouldn't acknowledge her own devious methods, then she couldn't 'really' stop them from leaving if they had a decent enough excuse; she couldn't 'really' stop them unless she admitted the _real_ reasons behind her _lovely_ meal. However, at the sight of Ron's smiling face, and Hermione's hopeful looks, Mrs. Weasley snapped, 'Not until you finish your _pancakes_!'

And on top of Hermione's already tumbling tower of _pancakes_, she dumped the rest of the pan (not even asking politely anymore), and Ron's own plate was now rolling in sausages. It seemed they really _weren't_ getting out lest they put on a pack. They both stared down at their mountainous piles of 'breakfast'. It really _was_ going to be a _long_ morning indeed.

* * *

><p>Harry put the fork to his mouth, looked and immediately stopped. The smirk that lined Snape's face was too much to ignore. He put it back down. He brought it back up. Up, down, up… down. Snape was watching him with mild amusement, Harry trying to discern what he had done, where the trap lay. Maybe he should take a drink? He reached for the cup; no… that would be laced with poison as well... the cup was the most obvious place, of course. Harry was still struggling to take the first bite, first <em>anything<em>, all of him wanting desperately just to give up entirely. How could eat in this situation? Surely Snape had done something to the meal, he was the potions master after all.

'Is something…wrong?' Snape could not hide the pleasure in his voice; he was clearly enjoying Harry's struggle to eat. He had his hands clasped in front, his smile lingering behind as he looked on. He wasn't touching his own meal, (a suspicion in itself), and was watching Harry straight on, waiting, amused by his attempts to do something relatively simple; eat.

'You believe I have done something…? You believe -perhaps not entirely unfounded- that I have… _added_ something to your meal?' He did not move, continuing to look at Harry across the table, continuing to smirk behind his carefully placed hands.

'No.' Harry lied. How could he not suspect? He was probably just bidding his time, waiting for the right opportunity…

As horrible as the idea was to him, Harry was eating breakfast with Snape. Snape had practically forced him to eat before his 'duties' were to start. He hadn't eaten anything all of yesterday, and so if he didn't eat now, he would be: '_too weak for physical labour_', as Snape had put it. The kitchen was a simple matter; one single length table at which they sat, a stove (Harry had thought there would be a cauldron), and one very messy cupboard situation. Someone desperately needed to clean it, Harry had only to guess who.

'Either way, Potter, if I had wanted to poison you- and believe me, my hand is always just _inches away _from my most deadly creation- I would have done so in your sleep. Poison.. or perhaps… _some of my other works_… some which may prove more useful than mere _poison_…I could do… that…?' He smiled at the horrid expression on Harry's face, running a slim finger along his mouth as if in wonderful thought. Was he _trying_ to get Harry not to eat? Now Harry had to worry not only about being poisoned in his sleep, but now Snape's 'other works' being hidden in his food as well. Perhaps he really would starve to death…if he was to make it out of breakfast alive, that is.

'Now, stop your hesitating Potter and eat.' Snape ordered him, a little in annoyance.

Harry picked up the fork…

* * *

><p>A knock on the door, a sudden burst of Ron's room being open wasn't even enough to budge Ron and Hermione from their positions; so stuffed, so tired, each lay on the bed in complete and utter defeat from Mrs. Weasley's breakfast 'meal'. The others, it appeared, were not unaware of the torture they were enduring, and so Fred and George had taken it upon themselves to save the two before they collapsed from Mrs. Weasley's killer pancakes (and, to a lesser extent, her devilish sausages). They knew, <em>personally,<em> how filling those pancakes really were; so strong they had considered selling them to the local joke shop to use for the next line of joke-candy, ones in which the eater would experience waves of nausea and feelings as though they had eaten a _very_ stuffing and fulfilling feast. Needless to say, Mrs. Weasley had found their plans before they could steal the recipe, though, the hope wasn't completely thrown out the window for them just yet. Ginny, too, had seen their suffering, and accompanied her brothers in the dramatic rescue. And now that they had successfully pulled off the escape (Mrs. Weasley was furious when the they got away during the distraction), they had all gathered up in Ron's room for (hopefully) some peace and quiet at last. Though, by the looks of Ron and Hermione, they wouldn't even have registered if noise were to be blasted full on in their ears.

'Ah, look how peaceful they are… such a beautiful sight.' Fred pretended to cry.

'As if they were in heaven!' George pulled out a handkerchief.

'Shut…' Ron barely managed to speak.

'What was that? Do I hear a "thank-you"? You know George, I do believe we can ask mum for some more _pancakes_… she's sure to supply.'

'You're right Fred. More _pancakes_… more _sausages_… you can even eat up here!'

'No…more…please!' Ron covered his ears; he couldn't handle the words; they provided him with horrible, deathly, mental images of his most recent trauma.

'What was that? You say you want some more? Those delicious, mouth-watery-!

'Alright already! _Thank-you_! Now will you both shut-up!' Ron was holding his stomach in pain.

'I don't know, Fred, d'you think that was good enough?' George considered thoughtfully.

'I don't know either; this little bro of ours needs some lessons in manners! What say you, Ginny? Was that good enough for all our effort?'

'Its fine.' Ginny said simply, putting the matter and issue to rest. She walked over to Hermione, who had her head lowered and was in a clear struggle not to throw up.

'Are you alright, Hermione?' She asked gently, putting a hand on her shoulder, and to which Hermione could only nod in response.

'I-I'm fine, I think… I'll be alright… now.' Hermione managed to say at last, looking a little green. Ron looked over and smiled, nearly puking himself in laughter at seeing Hermione, of all people, struggling with _food_ problems.

'Well Ginny, I guess its time you went back down to check on things.' Fred pulled her to the door, 'You're our informant to keep mum in the clear; you've got to report to us, remember, as our double agent. Make sure she's not still breathing fire by the time we come down!'

'But-!' Ginny tried to break free, yelling in protest; she could see they were trying to get rid of her. It was a tough fight, even for Fred, to finally get Ginny through the door and lock it shut. She banged for a while, but eventually gave up and headed back down (though not without a few curse words).

'Where did she learn such language?' George marvelled.

Ron and Hermione had sat up by now- with a little difficulty- and waited for what the twins wished to talk about so much so that Ginny couldn't hear.

'Now, time to get down to business.' Fred said clapping his hands together, looking around them with a grin.

'We believe you two fellows are in some dire need of assistance?'

'With little Harry, we believe?' Fred looked to Hermione. 'Poor little Harry.' He continued, 'When we first heard, even _we_ were tempted to think it was a joke. I can't even imagine having to spend my summer _there_, of all places.'

'Exactly. Nothing short of pure torture. Dumbledore must've had it in for him!'

'How? How do you know?' Hermione gasped, looking between the two in shock; how could they have been discovered, and so soon? 'We never-'

'You-!' Ron shouted angrily, 'Harry didn't want anyone to know! We didn't tell anyone- so how- how did you find out?' Ron suspected some foul play.

'Easy. We were in the Owlery at the time.' Fred said simply.

'Heard the whole conversation.' George supplied freely; Ron looked outraged at having been eavesdropped on.

'Didn't believe anyone would be up-'

'No one would mail letters on the last day of school, so we thought.'

'And who do we hear but our own little brother coming up the stairs! We had no choice but to hide.'

'Didn't want our _own_ business found out too.'

'And as luck and fortune may smile down on us, and _you_, little Ronny, for having had us heard!' Fred went on at a length, 'We are excellent allies, and no one better would want to help poor Harry in this devastating event than us.'

'So, we've come to ask-' George said finally.

'What have you two been doing?' Fred raised an eyebrow.

'Any plans yet on getting him out?' And they finished, facing expectantly towards the two; waiting.

Ron and Hermione looked to one another, and a little guiltily at that. It was true that they had only just arrived at the Burrow, but they could of at _least_ wrote their letter to Sirius, Dumbledore, even Harry if only for hope, by now. However, their hesitation, their need for some foolproof plan had stopped them from any action. Add to that, Mrs. Weasley's distractions had given them no time to think, or even talk, at all by themselves since they had come. Fred and George seemed to guess that they hadn't done anything spectacular; what exactly could they do, all by themselves anyway?

'No need to fret, no need to worry; we're here to help now!' George spoke over the silence.

'Good thing too, because if I were Harry, I wouldn't want my future in the hands of two uncertain teens such as yourselves.' Hermione looked a little offended, Ron just rolled his eyes. 'Now, we don't have as much going for ourselves in terms of ideas eith-'

'Hah!' Ron puffed out loudly, pointing an accusing finger, and in not a moment after he had started to rant on about their hypocrisy; he was shortly cut off,

'As we were saying!' George held his hands, overriding him, 'We may not have a lot to go on, but that doesn't mean-'

'We can't provide the _means_…' Fred's eyes lit up.

'What d'you mean "means"?' Hermione asked them suspiciously, and in return, they smiled all the more mischievously. She wasn't sure if she should really dive into any _illegal_ resources (and knowing Fred and George, that was surely what they had meant). At the same time, though, Hermione was debating with herself; she was already attempting to plan for an escape which could potentially lead to her expulsion (or worse, a dreadful piece of writing on her permanent record), but what should that matter now, if she's already decided? She knew she must help Harry, even if that meant accepting Fred and Georges devious help.

They seemed to have noticed Hermione's change in tone, her change in eye, and twisted around to leave while saying,

'It doesn't matter what we "mean", Hermione, only in that we're here to help! That's all that matters, is helping Harry! Right Ron?'

'Yeah, but what can you do? You're all full of talk, you can't _really_ do anything…'

Fred and George walked off to the door,

'Perhaps not from _your_ perspective.' Fred started to close the door.

'Definitely not with _that_ attitude.' George scoffed.

'But we'll see! Now get cracking, you two, and hurry up! Harry's counting on us!' Fred winked and shut the door with a snap, and Hermione and Ron were left alone to think about all sorts of different ways in which Fred and George could possibly help, and in turn each coming up with a more wilder idea than the next. Perhaps, if nothing else, the twins had given them the start, the incentive to formulate some form of a plan (however meagre), and so with a little feeling of hopefulness that something could turn up if they merely tried, they each took out some parchment, pens, and began to write.

'So how did you come up with that brilliant plan again, Ron? You know, the one which resulted in us nearly sitting and eating till our stomachs exploded? Hermione asked while scribbling down some notes. She had wondered slightly, for (though it had failed in a _spectacularly_ grand manner), it was rather _insightful_ of Ron to know the workings of his own mother and temperaments, despite the fact they were to be used against her.

Ron blushed tremendously, '…Fred and George… told me…'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

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><p>So it appeared that Harry hadn't died from his early morning breakfast with Snape (or at least, Harry thought, the effects hadn't shown up just yet). He wondered slightly what Ron would say if he told him he had eaten actualfood from Snape:<p>

'_Y-you-!' And Ron just stood there, his face purely dumbstruck. A frown began to move, his jaw wobbled out, his finger pointing dangerously at Harry's chest before grabbing him by the shoulders._

'_What I have taught you all these years! Never take food from the enemy, NEVER! How're you feeling? Are you sick, no, of course you're sick! Oh my god, are you even still alive!' And he shook Harry for some sort of a response._

'_I'm fine Ron...' Harry managed to say, imagining how the conversation would go, 'Well actually,' he added thoughtfully, 'I do feel a bit queasy…'_

'_See! I told you!' Ron yelled in horrific horror, and as soon as Harry had merely uttered the words he proceeded to check Harry's pulse, his forehead, shake him as if whatever he had eaten would somehow come back out._

'_But maybe it was just from–'_

'_The moment you trust Snape Harry, is the moment you'll fall into his trap! Don't you see?' He waved his hands importantly, 'He "_wants"_ you to think everything's fine, he "_wants"_ you to trust him, see, to lure you into his plans! And just when your feeling all nice and cozy, (hah, he snorted, in Snape's presence you can never be cozy) and just when you're feeling all comfortable and warm (in Snape's cold dungeons, yeah, sure) then BAM!' He continued, smacking his hands for dramatic effect, 'Snape will use all kinds of tricks, Harry, this is just one of them!'_

'_But-'_

'_Just ask Hermione. Hermione will agree.'_

'_I have to say Harry,' Hermione randomly entered the conversation, 'Ron's probably right.' Harry knew his imaginations were far off now; Hermione saying _Ron _was _right?

But whether or not Harry was in fact secretly dying, or secretly falling into the plans Severus Snape had laid out for him, it didn't seem to matter. Reality came rushing back as the hooked nose man himself put him to work... the first task being _cleaning_, of course.

Snape had explained, a little dully out of boredom, how the house hadn't been in use for nearly a decade. Harry had been hoping, before his drastic encounter with Snape on the stairs, to scout out possible windows, routes in order to receive his letters. Sure it was only the first day, but the first day was the most important chance. No one ever suspected on the first day (except, as Harry sadly found out...Snape). Snape seemed to guard the house like a hawk, and that wasn't even the only problem– he knew from his first entrance through the fire that Snape's house was small. His potion's master would probably be just around the corner at all times….

And if things could get any worse, as Harry knew they could, while eating his breakfast at the table of hell, he had come upon the realization of even more horrible news. He had gasped-in, spluttered out food– he had nearly died from choking rather than Snape's presumed poisonous meal. Yes, he had remembered, he had become dreadfully conscious of something of earth-shattering importance: he had sent his letter to Sirius... and if Sirius wrote back…? What if Snape happened to catch his letter before him! Snape had always suspected Harry of his involvement with Sirius, and with this letter he would have undeniable proof! Not only would Harry have to live with a seething, revengeful Snape (he was horrible already, Harry didn't want to think him even angrier), but Sirius would be found out as well! Harry had potentially risked Sirius's entire freedom, Snape would be sure to send for the authorities and finish him off!

Harry was upset at himself for not seeing this possible disaster before he sent his foolhardy letter. Why was he whining to Sirius? He still had Ron and Hermione to help him, right? He slightly wished he could write another, tell Sirius to forget about him but it was too late; besides, Hedwig wasn't even here, and besides that, he couldn't even use Hedwig to begin with as she caused too much attention! The only… the only thing he could do was hope and pray Sirius had enough sense _not_ to write to him. But if he did write… then Harry would have to grab his letters before Snape... as impossible as it was seeming right now. Snape didn't know he was expecting anything… perhaps he could use this fact to his advantage. Somehow, this whole trouble with letters was oddly familiar to Harry...

"You'll start here, in the kitchen" Snape's voice broke through Harry's thoughts, "I suspect this task alone will take you a week...and of course, Potter...", he raised his wand as if in tempting show, "as much as we all know how you are an _exception_ to the rules..._no magic. _Underage students aren't allowed...".

"Couldn't you just use magic then? Wouldn't that be easier?" Harry's mouth spewed his thoughts, but much to his shame. Snape's smirk couldn't have grown wider,

"Why yes, Potter...that _would_ be easier, wouldn't it?"

He smiled while holding his wand, then quickly turned away, "Now...enough questions and get to work". And then he left the kitchen, headed upstairs, his voice still lingering darkly in Harry's head.

Of course Snape wouldn't fall for that one. He could, technically, use magic and probably clean the whole house in an instant. But the real question was: why would he...and especially not for someone like Harry.

With a little frightened panic at the horrid task before him, Harry turned around to face the kitchen mess.

* * *

><p>A tiny knock on the door of The Burrow, their second day since arriving home, to Ron and Hermione's shock revealed none other than their old (or not so old) Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Rumus Lupin. His shaggy appearance was as noticeable as ever, and having just seen him a few days ago in school, it was a wonder what he was doing here on summer vacation. Mrs. Weasley answered and quickly invited him inside.<p>

"Would you like anything to drink Rumus?" Mrs. Weasley called as she lead him into the living room.

"Just a small glass, thank you Molly'"

"What are you doing here?" Ron blurted out incredulously as their professor sat down on the couch, Hermione beside snorting into her drink–he sure was blunt.

Remus smiled warmly while taking a seat opposite on the sofa, but his eyes were distant and weary from his travels. Ron instantly took back his remarks with a hasty apology (and a nudge from Hermione's elbow). Lupin opened his mouth to speak, and quickly silenced the two in their hurried whispers,

"No need to apologize, Ron. My arrival is somewhat unplanned for. If anything, I should be offering my own apologies for suddenly intruding on your home and wonderful family".

"Professor..."

"Oh, Miss Granger, there is no use in calling me that anymore. I am no longer your teacher, am I? You may call me Remus".

Before she could answer him, Molly came back into the room with more beverages and drinks. Ron and Hermione (perhaps as a natural reaction to most recent events), stiffened as she came near-by; they refused anything that came on a platter since. Remus laughed as he took a mug of hot coco, noticing their behaviours and when Mrs. Weasley headed back into the kitchen to call for Arthur, he leant in and whispered,

"If you wish to talk about Harry and Snape, meet me back here at mid-night. I have something I wish to share... and my true reasons for coming. Molly won't approve...so we'd best keep it a secret, alright?"

"What are you-?"

Ron was bewildered, his mouth agape and stunned. Hermione looked out of it as well; the news that her favourite teacher and academic inspiration was suddenly involved in _this_ matter? Oh, she felt sick, she was sick that they were all going to get caught and expelled! Maybe Lupin knew of their plans to rescue Harry, maybe he was going to turn them in to Dumbledore!

"It's alright Hermione, I'm not going to rat you out". Lupin guessed from her pale expression, adding a wink, and just in time too for Molly and Arthur, the twins and Ginny Weasley had made their way in the open living room door, to chatter away at Lupin's arrival and, as he later revealed, his month long stay.

* * *

><p>Harry had spent the better part of the day cleaning just one part of the kitchen, and with no more real progress made than Harry's friend's were sure to arrive. It was exhausting work, and the cupboard was no where complete even though it was almost noon– the stains wouldn't come out, crusted food was spilled everywhere, and Harry had the unpleasant experience of something black and fuzzy flying out at him when he first opened the door (and to his horror, it had somehow escaped). He had eaten breakfast here mere hours ago, and Harry shuddered to think of what Snape had actually cooked his food with. He wasn't given any sort of gloves or rags to work with, so Harry had to improvise. He wasn't exactly sure if he was allowed, but what did it matter? If Snape wanted the job done, Harry needed tools to do it.<p>

With a sudden thought that he needed to finish this task earlier than a week, Harry took out all the scrubbers he could find, old soap under the sink to plastic muggle bags, and started to work with a new enthusiasm–even if Snape had said the kitchen would take a month, then he was all the more determined to get it done today.

* * *

><p>"Ron, be quiet..." Hermione hushed him as they both stepped quietly down the stairs at midnight. Ron knew that his mother had exceptionally good hearing skills, so even the tiniest crack would alarm her instincts.<p>

"Is he really coming?" Ron asked as they both entered the darkened kitchen. Hermione searched the shelves, but when a light flared from behind her she turned to stifle a scream. Ron, meanwhile, was scrunching his nose as he turned on a handheld flashlight. His father had secured one in case of emergencies, and Ron still didn't understand how it worked. Hermione took it from him, turned it around and adjusted it properly, then walked towards the hallway door. Taking a deep breath, she flashed the light.

"Would you mind turning that out?" Lupin called softly from the couch. He had a newspaper on the table, coffee, a candle, and looked as though midnight were the new morning.

"Come and have a seat", he offered, then turned back to the headlines with a small grin. Ron raised an eyebrow, and Hermione, while shutting off the light, shuffled past him to sit down with tense feelings. What could he possibly know about their situation? About Harry? Why did he come?

"It is quite the topic, isn't it?" Remus started solemnly, still staring down at the paper while he spoke, "The debate being revived again. Why? And at this point in time?"

"Why? What's wrong?" Hermione sounded a bit alarmed by his angry tone of voice. As Ron sat down beside her, Remus turned the paper around so both could see; in big, bold letters, one could hardly miss the title directed at their friend. Hermione's eyes scanned down the page, darting to take in all information at once. When she had finished, she couldn't help but push it away with a scowl–what nonsense! Who had the audacity to write so boldly?

"It can be none other than Rita Skeeter", Lupin explained bitterly, "This is today's paper, but I managed to get an early copy".

"How did you know?" Hermione looked up at her professor, astonished that he could predict such a terrible topic before it was even out.

"Dumbledore had a sneaking suspicion this would crop up one day soon. Today just happened to be the day".

Ron, meanwhile, was staring down at the picture of Harry on the front cover. The topic was concerning Harry's questionable origins, dark links, and apparently they had some sort of new 'evidence' to showcase to the public. Ron wondered what this meant.

"Well, that's the thing Ron," Lupin sipped at his drink, sighing, "We don't know what evidence they have. If they have anything at all, or it's all a fraud. But... to claim it so publically and proudly? No, they must have something on Harry. The question is... what".

"But even if they did, what would that do? They can't do anything to Harry just based off a scam like that!"

"But don't you see Ron...they can. Ministry officials will certainly look into whatever facts the prophet provides. Public opinions will sway, questions will be asked, and Harry will be in danger if these sort of accusations continue against him–true or not".

Hermione looked outraged by the sudden revelation that not even pure justice was spared from the taint of the Ministry.

"But what does this have to do with you coming here? What about Harry and Snape?" Hermione asked, and Lupin sank back in his seat with a long thought.

"You know, I asked you to come down here so I could explain myself to you... but even now... I'm struggling to comprehend it all. It happened so fast. I was merely minding my own business when I heard about Harry from Sirius and then–"

"Sirius!" Ron and Hermione shouted at the same time, then quickly shut their lips. If they were too loud...

"Yes, Sirius" the werewolf smiled back, "he told me about Harry's letter, and said he's on his way here–".

"But–" Ron looked concerned and worried as his brows dug in. Harry had told him specifically he didn't want Sirius to come back. What was he thinking?

"But won't Sirius be in danger if he comes back so soon? This is–"

"That's what I told him." Lupin sighed once more, sinking deeper into his own frustration, "But he insisted, how could I refuse? I came here to supply him with all the basic necessities. He can't go far, the risk is too much, so that's why he asked me to come along. It's a burden, but I can't say no and especially when Harry's like this..."

"What's he planning to do? If he can't go out–" Hermione asked.

"He hasn't told me yet. I'll be meeting him in a week to find out though. That's the deal we've arranged". And with another sigh Lupin sat up straight and rubbed his forehead. He supposed now they would have to talk about Snape and Harry; Lupin had wanted to avoid this topic as much as possible...and who could blame him?


End file.
